Luchador
by Shortey
Summary: Miguel Caballero Rojo has always been a fighter. Fighting is the only thing he is good at. Driven by anguish, hatred and revenge will his only salvation of fighting bring him light or break him apart?
1. Prologue

Tekken 6

Luchador

Prologue

A look at Miguel's point of view before he entered the Iron Fist Tournament 6.

Miguel Caballero Rojo looked up the bright blue sky and sighed.

You should be in your honeymoon right now, he thought quietly. It has been a week since that tragic incident when jets had dropped devastating bombs down a church where a wedding was taking place. A wedding for his sister and fiancée. A supposedly joyful day ended up with anguish, hatred, sorrow and death. He ended up cradling his sister's lifeless body against his.

Miguel pinched his eyes shut and clenched his fists. He could feel another angry animalistic growl rising from his throat. Instead, he felt a trickle down his cheek. His solitary tear fell down the cold white marble stone. He looked sadly at the gravestone before him.

_In loving memory of Maria Carmela Rojo_

_May 5, 1988 to October 20, 2009_

_A great friend, a loving sister and a beautiful daughter._

_Te Queremos_

He knelt down and touched the surface of the cold stone. He ran his fingers tenderly down the engraved words. At that moment he could not remember any time when he felt such deep sorrow and anger at the same time. He felt fire surge through his veins. He looked up once more at the sky and swore vengeance.

Putting his hand in his pocket he clutched his plane ticket. He bought this ticket with the last of the money he has acquired through fighting and gambling.

I'll get them back, he promised. I won't stop until I reach Jin Kazama. Turning his heel he proceeded towards the direction of the airport. He can't wait until he touches down to Japan and get revenge on the man who is in charge of the tournament. He will not stop until that man has stopped breathing and buried six feet under.

Just like his sister.


	2. The Arrival

**Luchador**

Author's Note: Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcome. Tekken and its characters are owned by Bandai Namco.

~0~

The cool air conditioned air ruffled his already tousled dark hair. Breathing in the scent of the busy bustling airport of Tokyo, Miguel felt the corner of his mouth tug upward into a small smile.

Man, I'm glad to be out of that plane, he thought to himself relieved. Sitting on his hind for thirteen hours and thirty minutes is hell. He is not the type of person who can sit still let alone for an hour. He groaned and stretched his aching neck.

"What a pain," he muttered under his breath. Curiously he looked around his surroundings. The busy Tokyo airport was full of passengers trying to hurry, parents telling their kids to be quiet and airport security checking bags. Deciding he needed to get away from the crowd, Miguel proceeded towards the exit of the airport. After walking for a while, dodging a few people and nearly tripping over someone's stroller his previous feeling of relief is turning into an impatient annoyance. I need to get out of here before I break someone's neck, he mused sourly as he looked for the exit. Spotting the huge glass doors with the bright green sign Exit from one of the side exits of the airport, Miguel quickly hurried to get out.

Ahh, Tokyo here I come, he smiled once again. He stepped out and was greeted with more people rushing in and out of the airport. Clutching his brown duffel bag in one hand, he searched around for a taxi. Knowing minimal Japanese and no known relatives or friends in this country, he realized he might have a tough time getting around. He saw a taxi slowly approaching and flagged it down. Opening the rear seat door, he tossed his bag inside and climbed in.

"Uhh…hotel? Hoteru?" Miguel struggled to try and speak in Japanese. He tried to make gestures of what he could only hope coincides with accommodation.

"Minasan wa dochira e ikitai desu ka?" the old man asked raising his eyebrows questioningly.

Grabbing an English-Japanese traveller's guide book from his bag, he ruffled across some pages until he saw what he was looking for. Good thing he marked the pages as he quickly tried to learn the basics of Japanese.

"Err..Weekly Mansion Tokyo made onegai shimasu," he slowly said hoping the old driver is able to understand his Japanese despite the strong hint of his Spanish one. "Sumimasen, son'nani nihongo wa jouzu ja naindesu. Eigo ga wakarimasu ka?"

To his relief, the old man laughed. "Ahh, English! Yes, yes I understand but little."

Miguel signed in relief. At least he doesn't have to kill himself over a language. For now, anyway. He leaned at the back seat of the taxi cab as it pulled away from the airport. He watched in silence as he observed his new environment and surroundings. Tokyo has many similarities to Barcelona where he came from. Both are large cities with a collection of prominent sky scrapers, tall buildings and a steady stream of people doing business or touring the landmarks.

Barcelona is certainly rich in culture. Tokyo as well, but he noticed there are more emphasis on brighter lights, shopping gallerias and its advancement in technology. As he watched the scenery goes by, the people and buildings became a blur of colours. A bright sign caught his eye.

Blue Note Tokyo Bar.

He signalled for the driver to slow down and stop. Heh, what harm can a little drink do? "I'll get off here thanks," he said as the driver pulled over to the side of the road.

"Hotel not far. I take you there," the driver said as he turned around to look at Miguel.

"It's ok, thanks. Would like to visit some bars. I can walk the rest of the way," he replied as pulled out some cash from his wallet. The driver nodded.

"Arigato".

Miguel gave a little wave as the taxi pulled away. He turned towards the bar. He could hear a bit of music and singing from the outside. Looks like it's one of those bars with karaoke. He heard from people he had met in bars back in Spain that karaoke bars are especially popular in Japan. Well, he could sure got for a drink or two. Probably not the singing though. He wouldn't want the whole population of Japan to go deaf.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he entered the bar. The bar is not the typical bars he's used to back in Barcelona. This Tokyo bar is a bit more classy and stylish. The bar counter is of a creamy peach colour with wine glasses lined up along the length of the table. A tall shelf held a variety of beers and sakes behind the counter. Tall stools sat in front of the counter with a nice cream plush seat on top. At the other side of the bar there is a huge karaoke machine standing with a set of large couches. Behind the bar there are more private rooms for karaoke for groups of people.

Guess I won't be doing any fighting in here, he silently mused. Unless I risk getting deported. I don't want to risk that at the moment. Walking over to the bar counter he put his bag down a stool and sat on the one next to it.

"Sumimasen. One shot of Yamazaki, please." He called for the bar hostess. Nothing like drinking authentic Japanese whisky when you first arrive in a country. He smirked to himself. The bar hostess smiled as she grabbed a shot glass behind the counter and began to pour him the whisky. She is around in her twenties, tall and very attractive. She is wearing a tight red sleeveless top and a black mini skirt. He found himself checking her out before he brought himself back into reality and have further thoughts.

You are here on a purpose, amigo. Stay focused, he silently berated himself. He looked away from woman serving him. Hey, nothing wrong with just looking anyway. She is very atractiva. And I am just a man.

"Okay. Will you have anything else?" she asked as she handed him his drink. He shook his head. "Okay. Just let me know if you need anything else."

He raised his glass to her in thanks before gulping in down in one go. The bitter taste of the liquid going down his throat felt good. He looked around the bar and for the first time paid attention to the music of the place. Or rather, horrible sounding noise.

At the other side of the couch sat three men. One man is in his middle age, very tall and powerful looking. Perhaps the most notable physical trait he has is the nearly foot long hair he has standing up at the top of his head. He was laughing and goading another man. This one is oriental looking with black hair, medium sized build and height. He was holding a microphone was trying to sing the song "Hotel California" by the Eagles. Or it sounded like that song anyway. With his awful singing and out of tune voice, he sounded more like in pain.

"Welcome to the hotel californiaaa! Such a lovely place. Such a lovely face. Plenty of room at the Hotel Californiaaa!" the oriental man coughed as he ran out of air to hit the higher notes. His two companions laughed.

"Oh man, Marshall. You suck at singing. Haha, if we are to enter a singing contest I wouldn't bet on your life!" the tall blond haired man guffawed as he clapped his friend on the back.

"That's the worst rendition of the Hotel California song I've heard. Word of advice, stick to martial arts," another blond man said with a British accent. He chuckled out loud. "Don't spend too much energy on singing though. Remember our tournament tomorrow."

"Yeah, the King of Ironfist Tournament has some pretty good fighters this year. I can't wait for them to meet my fist!" the taller blond man with the ridiculous hairstyle said as he pumped a fist in the air.

Miguel's ears pricked up. Ironfist Tournament, he says? He looked at the three men carefully. Are these guys fighting in the tournament too?

"Remember the plan boys. Let's not screw this up," the blond man said as he stood up and stretched. He did a couple of punching motions in the air. "I feel good, I'm ready to start fighting, yeah?"

"We'd better go. None of us are qualified singers in this bar anyway. Plus I think we're driving away the customers," the oriental looking man said as he put away his mic. Thankfully for everyone's sake.

"Alright, we're off! Arigato, miss!" the flat top haired man called out to the bar hostess as the trio made their way outside the bar.

Miguel turned back to the counter and smiled. Looks like he's going to have a great fight over the next couple of days. He's ready to bring it on.

Translations:

Hoteru: Hotel

Minasan wa dochira e ikitai desu ka?: Where do you want to go?

Sumimasen, son'nani nihongo wa jouzu ja naindesu: Sorry, I speak little Japanese

Eigo ga wakarimasu ka?: Do you understand English?

Sumimasen: Sorry/Excuse me

Arigato: Thank you

Atractiva: attractive

Amigo: friend


End file.
